


we are late nights and red eyes

by montecarlos



Category: GP2 Series RPF
Genre: M/M, Porn, Racing, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8641408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: Mitch tries to come to terms with the fact that the life he knew, the life that he's used to wouldn't be the same anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silwehrleining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silwehrleining/gifts).



> For the wonderful Alex, I hope you enjoy this and this is what you were asking for :)  
> Much love to everyone who read through this and encouraged me over the finish line.

The photos seem to stare at him as he flicks through them carefully - faces of all the people that he’s made friends with. There’s so many of them, their hands curled around his waist, grinning at the camera - but there’s also ones of him in bed with said friends, sated and smiling - naked from the chest down tangled in the bedsheets… none of them ever seem to capture him for very long.  Mitch sighs heavily as he closes his suitcase for the last time - he was trying to ignore the fact that he wouldn’t be here next year, that he won’t be flying out to spend time with Sean or share plane journeys with Antonio, that he won’t be eating dinner in the Prema motorhome with Pierre or leaning on the chassis of Alex’s DAMS car, trying to flirt with him. He finds himself sitting by the side of his suitcase, unable to believe that this part of his life is coming to an end. He sighs heavily as he glances at the Jaguar racing overalls still hanging in his wardrobe. He’s had his first two races - he’s loving the team and the challenge of a new series, but Formula E isn’t the same. Adam doesn’t laugh at his jokes the way Sean does. The car doesn’t produce the same roar that his GP2 car does. He will miss his team, he will miss racing in GP2 - it’s been part of his life for over five years and he’ll always look over his time in the series with fondness.    
  
But he can’t stay here forever, he thinks - his hand ghosting over his closed suitcase, thinking of all the places he’s been with it, all the places his job has taken him. His phone vibrates. It’s a snap from Sean - he unlocks his phone and opens the message to find Sean grinning at the camera like an idiot, Antonio curled up on his chest fast asleep. There’s a row of see-no-evils monkeys across the top. Mitch feels the smile ghost over his face at the sight - they’ve only been together for a few months but it seems like a lifetime.    
  
He remembers the first time he heard about Antonio - they all knew each other - Sean and Antonio knew Tom B from their endurance days and Formula Three - and well, Mitch knew everyone. But he remembers meeting Sean for the first time in the Campos garage. He was tall, dark and handsome and Mitch remembers feeling a little attracted to him. He was exactly what Mitch looked for in a partner.    
  
“Sean Gelael, guess we’re teammates,” Sean had said with a wide smile.    
  
“I guess we are,” Mitch had replied back, wondering how long it would take before he could bundle Sean away for a quick kiss in the back behind the tyres. However, as he was about to turn on the charm, a tall and lanky man with chocolate brown hair falling into his eyes appeared behind Sean, his canary yellow overalls tied around his skinny waist.   
  
“Sean,” The man had said in a thick Italian accent and Mitch watches Sean light up. He knows the second he watches their eyes meet that he doesn’t want to get in between that. Sean smiled widely as Antonio throws his arm around him, eyes fixed on Mitch. “Who’s your friend?”   
  
“This is Mitch, my teammate for this year,” Sean had said, smiling.    
  
“Hope he will test you like I did,” Antonio replied, eyes shining as they take in Mitch who smiles at the man. “I’m Antonio, I’m driving for Prema this year,”   
  
“Nice to meet you man, I’ve heard about you,” Mitch said, which is true - he’d heard all about Sean and Antonio’s strange cuddling habits from when Tom was their teammate in Asia.    
  
“Good things only, I hope,” Antonio said, laughing.    
  
Mitch didn’t miss the wonder in Sean’s eyes at the boy next to him.   
  
He remembers cornering Sean after Antonio goes back to his garage with a smirk on his face, watching as Sean’s brown eyes fix on Antonio’s ass as he disappears around the corner. “So you and Antonio?” He said carefully. He smiled as he watched the blush appear on Sean’s cheeks.   
  
“What about me and Antonio?” Sean had asked, his cheeks still stained bright red.    
  
“What’s going on with you two?” Mitch said, the smirk still curling on his lips as he watched the tips of Sean’s ears turning beetroot red.    
  
“Nothing,” Sean admitted, looking down at his shoes.    
  
“Do you want there to be?” Mitch said, wondering if he’s stepping out of line.   
  
“We’re just friends,” Sean had muttered in response, but the way he answered the question, coupled with the blush made Mitch certain about one thing. Sean liked Antonio. He liked the Italian as more than a friend.    
  


* * *

  
  
Mitch soon grew to know Antonio and found out how difficult this was going to be. Clearly, Antonio shared the same feelings towards Sean - Mitch had to stop rolling his eyes every time they made eye contact, every time Antonio’s hands brushed against Sean’s. But they both seemed to be too shy to make a move. Mitch resists the urge to roll his eyes as he watches the pair of them, cuddled up on the couch before a race - Antonio is basically sitting in Sean’s lap - and he’s really fighting the urge to slap both of them silly right now. Antonio giggles at something that Sean has said, his lips skimming against Sean’s skin, Sean’s hand curving gently over his waist. Mitch just wishes that they’d just go somewhere private. But they don’t.    
  
They continue dancing around each other and Mitch finds himself drawn in- into the parties, into the trips to Harrods, into the gym visits, into every aspect of Sean’s life. He ends up moving in with Sean, only a month later - they were both living in London anywhere and their training schedules were identical. Mitch notices the hurt expression in Antonio’s eyes when Sean tells him - he’s still too far away, back in Italy busy with Prema and Pierre breathing down his neck.    
  
Sean corners him in May, just after their stint in Monaco with alcoholic covered lips and glassy eyes. He looks debauched almost, his hair falling free of the product he usually puts it in.    
  
“I like you,” He admits, his eyes locked on the smaller man. “I like you more than a friend,”   
  
Mitch takes a deep breath. He wasn’t expecting this - sure, he and Sean have always been flirtatious but he just assumed that Sean enjoyed playing along. “I- what?”   
  
“I like you more than a friend, Mitch - I think I have feelings for you,”   
  
Mitch’s chest turns ice cold at Sean’s words. “But, I - you, Antonio-”   
  
“Antonio and I...it’s not going to happen, he doesn’t like me in that way,” Sean mumbles quietly. “And well, I really like you-”   
  
Mitch is about to argue when Sean surges forward and captures his lips in a kiss. He moans against his teammate’s lips - they’re dry and chapped against his own, Sean’s hand yanking on his t-shirt as they kiss slowly. Mitch melts into the kiss, it’s everything he imagined - Sean’s lips are soft and stick to his own, his body flush against Mitch’s as they fall into each other, all thoughts of Antonio leave Mitch’s head as Sean rubs his swollen cock against him.    
  
They end up back at their flat, Sean slamming Mitch up against the wall, mouthing at his sweat-covered skin as they kiss furiously, frantically. Mitch smirks into the kiss, loving how passionate Sean is, their lips moving against each other as Sean rips Mitch’s shirt open, his leg pressing against the Kiwi’s thigh. Mitch knows that Sean can feel his swollen cock through the thin fabric of his jeans.    
  
“Fuck, Mitch-” Sean whispers against his skin as he kisses Mitch’s cheeks, his lips rubbing gently over the stubble. “Fuck,” He mutters again as his hands run over Mitch’s heated skin. Mitch smirks into the kiss, his hands fumbling at Sean’s jeans - his tongue runs over the crease of Sean’s lips and he opens up his mouth. Sean tastes of salt and alcohol, Mitch notes, as he manages to work the button open on Sean’s jeans. His dark brown eyes seem to darken at the sensation, his breathless moan tickles Mitch’s sweaty skin. Mitch’s hands manage to slide Sean’s jeans down, his erect cock standing out against the thin cotton of his black boxer shorts.    
  
“Mitch, I-” Sean breathes out, their eyes are locked together.    
  
Mitch knows he should say something about how wonderful Sean looks, about how horny he is. “Fuck me,” He whispers under his breath, turning on his charm.    
  
Sean’s cheeks go bright red at Mitch’s statement. “But, Mitch-”   
  
“Don’t you want to put your dick inside me, Sean? I know you’ve thought about me in that way...I know that you’ve wanked off to the thought of me with my mouth around your cock-” Mitch doesn’t get to finish as he’s pushed up against the wall, Sean’s arms supporting him. His legs move to curve around Sean’s waist as he gazes down at the taller man.    
  
“Fuck, Mitch-” Sean whispers out, his shaking hands moving to push Mitch’s jeans down, eliciting a groan from the Kiwi as his bare arse is exposed to the cool air. “God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long-”   
  
“So do it,” Mitch mutters as Sean’s hand moves down to cup at his arsecheeks. “C’mon,”   
  
“You’re a needy fucker, Mitch,” Sean mutters under his breath, nipping at Mitch’s collarbone with his lips before he quickly spins the Kiwi around. Mitch’s cheek presses against the wall, his back rippling against Sean’s hold. Sean’s arm moves to brace Mitch against the wall, holding him firmly to the surface. Mitch hears the sound of Sean spitting on his fingers before one of them enters his arse slowly, probing. Mitch groans at the contact, trying to move onto Sean’s finger but the younger man’s hands hold him in place. Sean works Mitch’s ass open slowly, watching his eyes fall shut at the sensation - Mitch is used to fingers, he’s had more than his fair share - but Sean crooks his finger ever so slightly and he shudders as waves of warmth curl over him.    
  
“Fuck me, Sean,” Mitch pants out breathlessly but he’s silenced as Sean slides another finger into him and works him open slowly, his mouth pausing to bite down on Mitch’s ear.    
  
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Sean mutters against his skin. “Thought about this so much, thought about being inside you, been inside your tight little ass-” He mutters, stretching Mitch out with his fingers, smirking as the Kiwi falls apart underneath him. Mitch groans as Sean works him open, his hands still gripping the soft tanned skin. Sean nips gently at Mitch’s ear once more, peppering kisses down his jawline as Mitch gasps, arching into his touch. Mitch’s swollen cock is rubbing against the side of the wall, smearing pre-come everywhere as he turns dark brown eyes onto Sean.    
  
“Fuck me, Sean. Make me scream,” He whispers from between swollen lips.    
  
Sean doesn’t need telling twice. He removes his fingers quickly from Mitch, pushing another moan free of the Kiwi as he smears the pre-come all over his swollen cock. Mitch exhales slowly, ready and waiting for Sean’s cock. Sean slowly pushes his way inside Mitch, his body moving closer and closer to that of the Kiwi’s. Mitch mewls, his back arching as Sean’s cock fills him. Mitch tries to move against Sean’s cock but he’s stopped by warm arms, Sean’s teeth biting down on his ear. Sean slowly begins to move against Mitch, feeling the Kiwi’s body lax against his own. Mitch moans against the wall, fingers scrambling against the plaster as warmth spreads over his lower body.    
  
“Sean, Sean-” Mitch calls out like a mantra, as Sean slowly pushes himself in and out, still holding the Kiwi against the wall. He will probably leave bruises, but it’s worth it - Mitch’s hair is falling free of the product, Sean’s name on his lips as Sean slams into him, his balls slapping lightly against tanned skin. “Oh god,”   
  
“Is this what you wanted?” Sean teases, his tongue ghosting over Mitch’s jawline, smiling at the moan that throws itself from Mitch’s lips.   
  
“Harder,” Mitch bites out, another moan tears itself from his mouth, only to yell out when Sean presses himself in further, a groan of his own bubbling up - Mitch feels incredible against him, it’s everything he ever imagined. “Faster,” Mitch pants out from between swollen lips as Sean’s mouth moves down to dance over the back of his neck. Sean worries at the salty skin with his teeth, making sure to leave a mark as he thrusts into Mitch, warmth pooling in his lower abdomen. Mitch’s fingers still scrambling against the wall, his own cock smearing pre-come all over the smooth surface. But he doesn’t care. It feels good, Sean feels good inside him - it’s been ages since he was last fucked and he did forgotten how amazing it feels. The warmth flares and Mitch feels the fuzziness take over as he nears orgasm.    
  
“I’m so close,” He pants out as Sean increases his thrusts, his balls slamming against Mitch’s arse. He angles his cock just right - Mitch was certain that he didn’t have  _ that _ much experience - but he’s forced to believe he’s wrong as Sean’s cock grazes over his prostate again and again. “I’m so close, Sean-”   
  
“You feel so good,” Sean pants out, thrusting harder and harder - he’s breathless, his body slamming against Mitch’s. “You feel so-” He stops, a groan pouring itself from his lips instead of words as he thrusts up once more and stiffens against Mitch. Mitch feels the warm come fill him, Sean sinking against his back. His mouth feathers tiny kisses against Sean’s skin as he rides out his orgasm. Mitch feels himself let go in that same moment, the come splattering against the wall as Sean calls out a name, a name that Mitch knows well.    
  
“Oh god, Antonio,” Sean mutters against his skin.    
  
He gets a text from Alex of all people after. Something about meeting up, but he ignores it, thinking only about the name that had fallen from Sean’s lips.    
  


* * *

  
  
They’ve fucked a few times since then - hurried sessions in the motorhome just before qualifying, a few times after races at the hotel. There was one time after the Baku race in which they both failed to finish and Mitch had dropped to his knees in front of Sean with his eyes flashing. However, as quickly as things heat up, they slow down again. Mitch doesn’t mind, they weren’t exclusive anyway. He fucks Artem the weekend after Baku - they’re both in London and well, Artem sent a text to say he missed him. Mitch had remembered the old times at Russian Time, everything that Artem had teased out of him and they’d fallen into Mitch’s bed.    
  
“Just like old times,” Artem had said afterwards as he’d pressed a kiss to Mitch’s hair. 

He wins in Austria with Sean by his side, but there’s a familiar figure standing on the ground looking up at them in wonder.    
  
Antonio watches Sean take his first podium. He stands next to the Campos boys looking a little uncomfortable, his sweaty hair pushed back and his overalls looped around his skinny waist. Mitch feels the nausea rise up in his stomach at Antonio’s dark green eyes fixed on Sean, smiling and grinning widely. He looks over at Sean who is looking down at the Italian with the same wonder and he realises that he doesn’t want to get in the middle of that. He smiles, puts on a show, smiles as Sean’s hand curves over his waist, until they’re away from the cameras, from prying eyes and especially for Mitch - away from Antonio.    
  
“Someone’s eager,” Sean jokes with a smirk on his face as Mitch’s hand curves over his own, tugging him away. “Didn’t you get enough of my-”   
  
“I want to end this thing between us,” Mitch says bluntly. “I just...can’t do this anymore,”   
  
“Why?” Sean asks with a neutral expression.    
  
“You know why,” Mitch says, pushing away the annoyance rising up inside him. “I don’t want you to look back at this point in your life and think it were wasted on the wrong person,”   
  
“What are you talking about, Mitch?”    
  
“Antonio,” Mitch says softly. “You should be with him, you should be fucking him into the sheets and sucking his dick before races and stuff, you love him,”   
  
Sean is silent for a moment and Mitch wonders if he’s overstepped the mark.   
  
“I do love him,” Sean finally bites out. “But he doesn’t-”   
  
“Are you kidding me? He just came to watch you on the podium, he was staring daggers at me for putting my hands on you,”   
  
“But I-” Sean begins, only for a familiar accent to curl through the air.    
  
“Sean,”    
  
Antonio stands in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the Indonesian.    
  


* * *

  
  
They’ve been together ever since that fateful conversation - both of them arriving at Mitch’s hotel room later that night with swollen lips and clasped hands, Antonio blushing when Sean announced that they were  _ boyfriends _ . Mitch had congratulated them both, accepting the hugs from both men, thankful that they had decided to stop being stupid. However, when they left an hour later after a quick celebratory drink, the loneliness had set in. Mitch flicked through his contacts, pausing over Tom for a moment - Tom is a good booty call, but Mitch isn’t sure if he’s around at the moment. He even considers Dany, before he remembers that he’s shacked up with Carlos and they’re probably having smug relationship sex somewhere across the city before he settles on Ollie. They have some history - they’ve kissed a few times, they’ve made out when they were drunk before and they used to have an arrangement during the dry months when Sean was a little closed off.    
  
To: Ollie Rowland   
_ You busy? I think I need a drink bud _ _  
_ _  
_ The reply is instantaneous.    
  
From: Ollie Rowland   
_ Yr room or mine? ;) _ _  
_ _  
_ Ollie arrives only five minutes later in an interesting patterned t-shirt and faded jeans with a small smile on his face. He’s holding a bottle of vodka in his hand.

“Just a drink?” Ollie questions but Mitch says nothing, pulling the Brit inside. The vodka is opened quickly and shots are downed, one after the other before Ollie falls onto the rumpled sheets, glancing up at Mitch expectedly. “Funny drink,” He smirks, watching Mitch pull his shirt slowly over his head.    
  
“Shut up,” Mitch mutters, shedding his jeans quickly afterwards. Ollie smirks at him from the bed and Mitch has missed this - there’s no feelings between them, there’s just sex, just the need to be wanted, to be fucked. Ollie winks at him and slowly undoes the button on his jeans, sliding them away from his hips.    
  
“Like what you see?” Ollie teases and Mitch is about to remark when there’s a knock on the door - he raises an eyebrow, not remembering ordering room service or asking anyone else to come over. He opens the door and is surprised to see Sergey Sirotkin on the other side of the door. Sergey’s bright blue eyes slide over his form, over the bulge in his boxer shorts before his eyes move over to where Ollie is laying on the bed, his jeans around his ankles.    
  
“I can explain-” Mitch begins but Sergey doesn’t say a word as he pushes back the small Kiwi. Ollie is silent as Sergey moves over to the bottle of vodka, he pours himself a shot and knocks it back, folding into the chair by the side of the bed.    
  
“Sergey, what the fuck-” Mitch says in confusion. “What the fuck are you doing here?”   
  
“I asked him to come,” Ollie announces, the blush spreading over his cheeks. “I….we’re together now, sort of,”   
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mitch asks, blinking at the man still half clothed on his bed. “You’re together, yet you’re here wanting me to fuck you-”   
  
“I like to watch,” Sergey says slowly, filling the shot glass once again, his eyes lock on Mitch. “Oliver told me about you, about your past. He showed me the message-”   
  
“I-” Mitch says, blush dancing over his cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this,”   
  
“Mitch,” Ollie whispers, his eyes dark as his tongue ghosts over his lip. “Come on, just pretend he’s not there,”   
  
“But you two...are together and-”   
  
“We’re sort of together, it’s complicated,” Ollie says, biting his lip. “It’s just...an open thing, look, he asked if he could watch you fucking me. Besides, we’ve talked about this before,”   
  
“There’s a difference between talking about it and doing it,” Mitch says, glancing at Sergey knocking back another shot of vodka.    
  
“Look, are you going to fuck me or not, Evans?” Ollie mutters, his eyes moving from Sergey to the Kiwi still standing before him. Mitch sighs heavily - Ollie has always been needy - and finally gives in. He smiles, not waiting to wait any longer, as he slides onto the bed. He falls on top of Ollie, kissing the Brit slowly and softly, feeling his body open up underneath him as they kiss. Ollie’s t-shirt soon follows, leaving the Brit in nothing but his boxer shorts. Ollie’s eyes rove over his body, eyes flickering over to where Sergey is still seated with a smirk on his face. They kiss slowly, passionately, Mitch’s tongue flicking over Ollie’s mouth as they rut against each other.    
  
Mitch feels a sigh roll over his lips as Ollie’s hand moves down to cup at his boxer shorts, to push at his swollen dick. “God, I need it inside me,” Ollie mutters against Mitch’s skin as Mitch ruts against him, their lips tangled together.   
  
“You never had any patience, did you?” Mitch whispers back, thrusting himself against Ollie’s thigh, the pair of them tangled together on the bedspread, warm skin brushing against the other. Ollie doesn’t answer as his mouth dips down over Mitch’s jawline to pepper kisses over his stubble, nipping at his collarbone. Mitch groans at the contact - he’s missed this. He’s missed the way Ollie makes him feel sometimes, they’re not serious and they never will be - but Ollie makes him feel incredible, he pulls things out of him that nobody else ever did. Ollie’s tongue dances over his collarbone slowly. “Fuck me,” He whispers into Mitch’s skin.    
  
Mitch yanks down Ollie’s boxer shorts - they’ve never been a pair who are into soft, soft kisses and heavy petting - they both know what they want. Ollie gasps as Mitch leans down, kissing over the dark blonde hair on Ollie’s belly. His mouth moves down over Ollie’s skin, his tongue skimming around the base of Ollie’s cock for a second, pulling a groan from the Brit’s lips. He continues down to Ollie’s arse - smiling as the Brit arches his back and squirms against Mitch’s tongue. Mitch’s tongue flickers over Ollie’s arsehole, a scream emitting from the Brit as he moves against the sensation. He catches Sergey out of the corner of his eye - blue eyes fixed on them both but he pulls another scream from Ollie.    
  
“Stop messing about,” Ollie pants out as Mitch’s tongue runs over his arsehole slowly, gently, taking his time. He can feel Ollie tensing his arse, his hole fluttering as Mitch’s tongue laps over the skin. “Mitch, please-”   
  
Mitch smirks against Ollie’s skin as he slowly pulls away, Ollie’s head falling flat against the pillow as Mitch rolls over, trying to locate the lube. “Don’t bother with that, he’ll be wet enough before you know it,” Sergey says slowly, another shot of vodka in his hands. Mitch finds himself nodding - they’ve fucked without condoms or lube before, frenzied in the back of the motorhome.    
  
“Fuck the fingers, Evans,” Ollie mutters as Mitch spits into his hands and immediately begins lubing up his cock. He glances over at Sergey, who meets his gaze intently, before he lines himself up. Ollie’s mouth falls open as Mitch eases himself into his arse, as his cock slowly slides into the opening, filling the Brit up. Ollie spreads his legs further, the moan falling from his mouth as Mitch eases in further, his balls brushing against Ollie’s arse.    
  
“God, I forgot how good you feel,” Mitch mutters as he begins to thrust into Ollie.    
  
The Brit huffs against him, his mouth wide open. Mitch feels so good inside him, he wants to cry at the warmth curving over his lower abdomen as the Kiwi begins to thrust against him. He can hear Sergey knock back the rest of his vodka and the zip of his pants tear through Ollie’s moans as he thrusts into Ollie, their bodies dance against each other. Mitch groans out as he thrusts up inside Ollie, at the sound of his cock popping against Ollie’s hole. Ollie’s fingernails hold onto his forearms, leaving marks as he moans out Mitch’s name again and again. His hair is sticking flat to his sweat-covered forehead, his mouth wide open and his pupils are blown - he looks debauched and Mitch loves it.   
  
“You like that? You like what I feel inside you?” Mitch mutters as he thrusts harder and harder, the warmth building up in his lower body.    
  
“You know I’ve always been an whore for your cock-” Ollie begins, only to be silenced as Mitch’s cock brushes over his prostate. He groans out Mitch’s name, his back arching as the tendrils of pleasure rise over his body, as he moves his legs further apart. His fingers seek out Mitch’s back, leaving half-moon crescents in the soft tanned skin. “Fuck, fuck, Mitch-” He calls out, throwing his head back as he feels the warmth wash over him.    
  
“God, you feel so good,” Mitch mutters out, forgetting that Sergey was there for a moment - focusing purely on himself and Ollie, how Ollie is tensing his arsehole just right - the pressure making Mitch’s cock swell further. He thrusts harder and harder against Ollie, his fingernails pressing into Mitch’s back - as their bodies fall against each other, the warmth building up around them both. Their sighs and moans are interlinked with the breathless sighs of Sergey from the side of the bed, presumably getting himself off to the sight before him.    
  
“Mitch-” Ollie groans out as he nears orgasm - his back arching as the warmth cascades over him and his fingernails leave bruises. his cock, pressed between himself and Mitch, that’s been rubbing against Mitch’s stomach suddenly comes to life - hot, sticky come splatters against Mitch’s tanned skin as he comes inside Ollie with a jolt, riding out how good his orgasm feels. The two men lay against each other for a moment, sticky come covering their bodies as they pant slowly.    
  
“That was worth the wait,” Sergey says, breathlessly, cutting through the silence. His pants are still undone and his cheeks are pink but his eyes are shining.    
  
Mitch doesn’t reply to Sergey’s comment - he’s too exhausted, still buried inside Ollie. He presses a kiss to the Brit’s earlobe, spent from their activities. The loneliness is gone for now. But it reappears when Ollie leaves with his hand curled around Sergey’s an hour later, smirking as he mentions that they have to do it again.    
  


* * *

  
  
Mitch seems to dance through the rest of the season. He blows Pierre after his race win in Silverstone - falls to his knees in front of the Frenchman and proceeds to make him forget everything - his name, his position in the race, everything. It’s worth it, the way Pierre pulls on his hair. In Germany, Sean corners him after the sprint race and Mitch tries hard not to stare at the lovebite on his collarbone, tries not to think about the man who put it there.   
  
“Do you want to come to Indonesia?” Sean asks, his brown eyes fixed on his teammate.    
  
Mitch feels his heart burst free of his ribcage at Sean’s words until the flames are quickly ignited, “Tonio’s really looking forward to it-”   
  
“Antonio’s coming?” Mitch asks tentatively. He doesn’t know why he asks, he knows what the answer will be. Antonio will be coming. Sean doesn’t go anywhere without him.    
  
“Of course, but he really wanted you to be there too,”   
  
“I’m not comfortable being the third wheel,” Mitch admits, looking down at the floor.    
  
“You wouldn’t be,” Sean says softly. “Look, I really want you there, you’re my best friend and I really want you with me and Tonio-”   
  
Mitch can’t say no. Sean smiles widely and pulls him into a hug, slapping his back and talking about all the sweet juice bars that they’ll visit. All Mitch can think about is how lonely he will be, how he will have to sit and watch Antonio and Sean be sweet to each other. He pulls away from Sean after a few minutes, making up some excuse that he left his data in the garage and walks away from his teammate with tears stinging in his eyes. He thinks about Antonio and Sean happy together, thinks about how happy Ollie was earlier, a lovebite barely visible under the collar of his overalls and curses under his breath.    
  
The tears come as he thinks about how lonely he is, about how he still hasn’t found the right person. He tries to wipe them away with a shaking hand, barely looking where he’s going when he runs into something soft.   
  
“Sorry,” He mumbles out, going to move away from the person, only for a warm hand to curve around his wrist.   
  
“Mitch?” A familiar voice calls out and Mitch finds himself looking into dark brown eyes.    
  
Alex Lynn. They have history - who doesn’t Mitch have history with - but Alex has always been unattainable, the tall, dark and handsome man that Mitch has had many a wank to. They’ve kissed a few times for dares, filled up with alcohol, but they’ve done nothing other than that. They flirted for the best part of a year over instagram - to the point where Mitch’s friends actually thought they were a thing but that was just a joke, and Alex, surprisingly rose to the challenge.    
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
“I’m fine. I just-” Mitch says carefully, trying to ignore how good Alex’s thumb feels stroking against his wrist. “I’m just having a bad day,”   
  
“Wanna talk about it?” Alex asks and Mitch knows that he should say no, knows that he shouldn’t be pulled into Alex. But he can’t say no to those chocolate brown eyes.    
  


* * *

  
  
He ends up spilling everything to Alex back in the DAMS motorhome and hates himself for it. He hates that Alex is able to unravel everything about him but the older Brit sits on the couch, leaning back into the cushions with a pensive look on his face.   
  
“You don’t have to go,”   
  
“I know I don’t have to, but they said things wouldn’t be weird between us,” Mitch mutters, hating how pathetic he sounds.    
  
“It’s your choice, Mitch. Nobody can force you to go,”   
  
“I know, I just...I look at them together, they’re perfect. I wish someone would look at me like that, I have fun and I fuck around but I’m lonely-” Mitch admits, worrying his lip.   
  
“I know that feeling,” Alex admits quietly. “Everyone’s a little lonely sometimes-” His hand moves to ghost over Mitch’s and the Kiwi feels the electricity in their touch - brown eyes lock on darker brown as their lips meet together in a kiss.    
  
Mitch knows that they shouldn’t, he knows that he should stop sleeping with everyone he meets - but it’s Alex that rips his shirt away and yanks his boxers down, it’s Alex that kisses him with frightening intensity as he pulls down his own underwear revealing his cock. Mitch has heard rumours of Alex’s cock and they’re all true. Alex smirks at the look on his face as they fall into each other against the couch cushions. Mitch isn’t sure how it happens but he ends up bent over the side of the couch with Alex fucking him, his hands pulling at the scratchy fabric of the couch. It feels so good, Alex inside him, filling him - he seems to come quicker than he has before now. Alex doesn’t leave afterwards either, he stays wrapped up around Mitch, softly stroking at his sweaty hair.   
  


* * *

  
  
Mitch tries to ignore what happened with Alex as he jets off to Indonesia - tries to forget the dark brown eyes and the soft smile of the Brit as he watches Antonio’s hand twine with Sean’s in the seat next to his and closes his eyes. He tries not to think about the way Alex had pushed back his hair, the way Alex had looked at him just before they’d kissed. But it’s hard. There’s time he turns to his phone - and pulls up Whatsapp when Antonio giggles and Sean leans in to kiss him. It’s beautiful out here, all pure white sandy beaches and crystal clear water, the sunshine bearing down on them - Mitch could easily stay here for the rest of his life.    
  
Trash King: you about?   
Ace: barely, what are you doing up?   
Trash King: it’s 2pm here, did you forget the time difference?   
Ace: oh, yeah   
Ace: so how is Indonesia?   
Trash King: boring as fuck, Sean and Antonio are a few seconds away from shagging near me   
Ace: i could make it less boring?   
Ace: ;)   
  
Mitch pauses as a photograph slowly sends through onto the screen. Alex is lying in bed with sleep-ruffled hair, his tongue sticking out and his pants riding down, the thick dark hair that dips down beneath his boxer shorts makes Mitch salivate. He knows he shouldn’t rise to it, to the shameful flirting. But he does.    
  
Trash King: Don’t tease me like that, Lynn   
  
Alex sends another photo and Mitch nearly chokes on his own spit at the sight of Alex biting down on his lip, his hand thrusting his boxer shorts down, his dick is erect and dark. It’s followed by two winking faces and Mitch feels his swim shorts grow tighter at the photo - Alex looks _ good _ . Mitch fumbles out a reply - of several different emojis. Alex only sends the crying with laughter one back. Mitch chances a glance at Sean, still wrapped around Antonio, and decides to retire to the bathroom to get his own back, making Alex speechless with the photographs of his tanned and toned torso on their chat window.    
  
They continue the flirting for days and days - in between Mitch going jet-skiing, in between the cocktails sitting on the jetty near the beach. Photos are bandied back and forth and interesting messages follow and Mitch forgets all about the loneliness, longs for the moment when he can go back to London. Antonio and Sean smirk at Mitch buried in his phone - but they say nothing as the Kiwi continues to tap out another message.    
  
Ace: So when you get back?   
Trash King: Why you want to know?   
Ace: So I know what time to come and fuck your brains out   
  
Mitch chokes at the message, a smile brushing over his face. He knows that he should tone it down, that it’s getting dangerous but he’s having too much fun. He doesn’t want it to end, he doesn’t want to think about the loneliness again. He arrives back in London two weeks later with tanner skin and bags under his eyes from the flight, but feeling like he needed that break away. However, when he’s in the taxi back to his flat, Alex pops up on Whatsapp with a photo message. Mitch flicks the chat open and nearly drops his phone down onto the seat next to him.    
  
Ace: Waiting for you when you get back ;)    
  
There’s a photo of Alex’s cock - hard and erect, a dribble of pre-come running down the tip. Mitch asks the taxi driver to turn around and head towards Oxford - he knows it will be expensive - but it’s worth it. He wonders if he’s making the right decision, if it’s the right thing to go back to Alex again, to fall into his arms. But he finds he doesn’t care in that moment. Alex makes him feel good, Alex makes him feel like he’s important.    
  


* * *

  
  
Alex looks surprised to see him when he opens the door - his boxer shorts slung low on his hips and a small smile on his lips. His dark eyes rove over Mitch for a moment, over his messy hair and the bags under his eyes.    
  
“Wasn’t expecting to see you here-” Alex begins but Mitch steps forward, pulling the taller man into a kiss. Alex melts into the kiss, his hand fisting into the soft curls at the nape of Mitch’s neck and everything suddenly feels worth it. Mitch doesn’t care about the circumstances, he’s not even thinking about a future with Alex, it’s about the here and now. Alex groans deeper into the kiss as he pulls Mitch into the apartment and they collapse onto the couch.Alex’s other hand moves to push away Mitch’s jeans as his tongue runs over the crease in the Kiwi’s lips, opening up his mouth. Their bodies tangle together as Mitch’s jeans fall down his legs, as Alex’s fingers grip his hair and Mitch groans out as his cock rubs against the thin material of his boxer shorts.   
  
“I missed you,” Alex mutters as he rips his lips away, pulling Mitch’s t-shirt over his head, his dark brown eyes roving over Mitch’s tanned chest. His hand dips down over his neck, as their lips connect once more, his other hand moving to pull away his boxer shorts. Alex was never one to waste time with foreplay - it’s one of the things Mitch loves. He groans into Alex’s mouth as the cool air hits his cock, as Alex’s hand moves to gently cup his bare arse.    
  
“I missed this,” Alex whispers as his lips move to ghost over Mitch’s jawline, pressing tiny kisses against the stubbled skin. Mitch feels the warmth spread over him - Alex’s hands seem to ignite every fiber within him, his kisses feel like burns.    
  
“Hurry up,” Mitch murmurs as Alex continues to kiss his skin. “C’mon Ace, I thought you were going to fuck me so hard, I forgot about my GP3 title,” He says, with a smirk on his face. Alex feels Mitch’s hands move down to his boxer shorts, ripping them down from his hips.    
  
“Someone’s impatient,” Alex teases, nipping at Mitch’s collarbone and drawing a hiss from the younger Kiwi. “Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”   
  
“Those people have clearly never had a cock inside them,” Mitch announces, fighting back the urge to whine. “Ace, stop teasing me,”   
  
Alex laughs against him, a breath dancing over his collarbone before Alex slowly resumes kissing his collarbone. “I’m telling my time...you’ve fucked a lot of guys, Mitchy. I want to be the one you remember,”   
  
Mitch knows he should tell Alex what he wants to hear. It’s not lies - Alex is one of Mitch’s better lovers, he’s teased things out of Mitch that he didn’t think were possible. But he groans as Alex’s teeth scrape over his tanned skin, as he feels Alex’s hands wrap around the tops of his arms. He barely hears the snick of the lube bottle, barely feels himself being flipped - bent over the side of the couch. The Brit has never been into fingering, he’s more of the rough and ready type - and sure enough, Alex parts Mitch’s legs and angles himself just right, slowly pushing the tip of his dick into Mitch. Mitch pants at the sensation - Alex’s cock is so thick, it seems to fill him up almost instantly. Alex glances down as Mitch mewls at the feeling, his mouth falling open as waves of pleasure sink over him.    
  
“Worth the wait yet?” Alex teases as he stops for a moment. Mitch groans and tries to push his arse down further onto Alex’s cock, only to be held in the same position. “Not yet,” Alex teases, his breath brushing over Mitch’s bare arse, his hands holding the Kiwi firmly in place. He pushes in further and Mitch goes lax in his arms, moaning out at the top of his lungs - the warmth curves up inside him as he’s filled by Alex’s cock. Nothing else matters in that moment to Mitch - the loneliness, all the feelings - they all fall away. It’s just them, he thinks, as Alex slowly begins to press in deeper - it’s slow and steady and it’s exactly what Mitch needs right now as Alex moves against him. He pushes in and out of Mitch, his lips ghosting over the back of the Kiwi’s neck, his nose hitting the dark curls as Mitch falls apart underneath him.    
  
“Fuck, fuck, Alex-” Mitch moans out, his voice almost breathless as he begins to get used to the rhythm of Alex’s thrusts, the warmth curling over his lower body as he thinks about Alex inside him, about his fingers rubbing over his body. Alex’s hand moves to gently play with Mitch’s nipple - his fingers rubbing over the soft light brown nub as the Kiwi gasps out underneath him, the other hand moving to push over Mitch’s leaking dick. The Kiwi arches up against him, as Alex’s fingers slide over his wet shaft, as he thrusts into Mitch harder and faster, building a steady rhythm.    
  
“Wanted to do this for ages, I wanted to fuck you-” Alex mutters against Mitch’s skin, his fingers curving into a fist as he begins to tease Mitch’s swollen dick, pre-come smearing all over his thumb. He continues to thrust up into Mitch, his other hand moving down from teasing his nipple to rest against his abdomen, holding him close as their bodies rock together, as the warmth curves over the pair of them .   
  
“Going to make you forget your own name,” Alex continues, picking up the pace as the thrusts intensify, as his movements on Mitch’s shaft increase. He’s getting wetter, louder, thrusting himself up against Alex. It seems to last a lifetime as the pair of them sink into an intense rhythm, as the pressure builds up between them. Alex’s thrusts become more and more pronounced, his shaft brushing over Mitch’s prostate again and again, forcing groan after groan from the Kiwi. Alex’s name fills the air as Mitch arches back, come splattering all over Alex’s hand as the Kiwi sinks forward.    
  
“Alex-,” Mitch mutters as Alex comes inside him with a moan.    
  
The two lay on the couch for a moment afterwards, too exhausted to do anything else as Alex begins to lazily play with Mitch’s mussed hair. Mitch leans back into Alex’s touch as the older man pulls out with a pop, enjoying the sensation of Alex’s long fingers carding through his hair.   
  
“Fuck, I love you,” He finds himself saying before he can stop it.    
  
“What?” Alex says after a moment, their shallow breathes the only thing filling the silence.    
  
Mitch however, swears under his breath. His face is chalk white, his eyes flicker to meet Alex’s as he rips himself away from Alex’s grasp and begins picking up his clothes from where they had been lost on the floor.    
  
“Mitch, please-” Alex tries to reason but Mitch panics, he can only think of one thing - he can only think of the three words he said carelessly to the Brit, three words that could change everything. He thinks about Sean, about Ollie, about who Alex could have in the background to replace him, to fit the memories they created together.    
  
“Just leave me alone-” Mitch says, averting eye contact as he shoves his clothes back on hastily. He doesn’t want to see the pity in Alex’s eyes. He doesn’t want to feel unwanted, for the loneliness to return so it’s easier to pretend it doesn’t exist. He leaves Alex’s apartment with tears on his cheeks and a heavy heart.    
  
But a heavier heart is better than a broken one, he reasons.    
  


* * *

  
  
Mitch throws his phone away, over to where the pillows are on his bed, gazing over his suitcase once more. He will miss GP2 when it’s all over - it’s been such a big part of his life for so long and he knows that deep down, he will miss it. He runs his fingers over his suitcase, his hand finding the passport sticking out of the end - he opens it up and gazes over all the places he’s been. GP2 did a lot for him, it allowed him to grow as a person he thinks as his fingers trace over the ink. He thinks about the people that almost were - about Sean’s lips dancing over his own, about Artem’s smirk when he went down on him, about how Pierre’s mouth fell open when Mitch got on his knees, about how Ollie would smirk at him, about how Alex would -    
  
However, a pair of arms move to curve around his waist and the scent of a familiar cologne dances over his nostrils as a pair of warm, chapped lips press against his neck.    
  
“What are you thinking about?” Alex’s voice is warm against his skin.    
  
“About how I’m losing a big piece of my life,” Mitch admits.    
  
“But think about the big piece of your life that’s just beginning,” Alex says softly. Mitch has to agree. He’s not sure what the thing between them is at the moment - if it can even be called that - but it’s enough for them, it’s enough for that moment.    
  
Mitch’s hands drop his passport as he accepts the kiss from Alex, his hands wrapping around the Brit’s, leaning into his touch. “I could think of a few ways we could open up that new chapter in my life, Ace-” He says with a smirk on his face.    
  
“Sounds good to me,” Alex replies, smiling against Mitch’s lips.                                          


End file.
